#that was a nasty shock

[duskier]

Actually solemn knight Ghost who took a vow of silence after he wasn't able to save his clan leader.

The late Lord Cailean MacTavish had taken Simon in when he was a young boy. Had trained him to be a skilled soldier, fed him, vouched for him to others despite the reputation Simon's father, the late Riley patriarch, had sewn. Even sent money to Simon's mother to allow her to live comfortably all the way to her natural end. When the young Simon saw Cailean fall in the midst of the chaos of battle, his entire world rotted away. It felt like losing his father all over again- no, it felt like truly losing his father. And he couldn't help but entirely blame himself. If only he'd been faster... he should have sacrificed himself. Stepped in front of the spear and let it pierce his own heart. The world wouldn't have missed Simon Riley, but the loss of Cailean MacTavish was a scar upon the land that would not heal for generations.

For all intents and purposes, Simon Riley died the day Cailean MacTavish did.

Ghost who then spent his entire life protecting the young Lord John MacTavish after. Ghost, who was dark, broody, quiet. John, the bright-eyed, intelligent trickster son who didn't fully understand, who didn't know the vow of silence Ghost had taken or the guilt that weighed heavier than the world on Ghost's shoulders. John always trying to get Ghost to speak, even to make a noise. They were only a decade apart in age, but John's playfulness and Ghost's stoicism made it seem like they were leages apart.

Ghost fighting to keep John safe above all else if only in memory of his father, though Cailean's advisors Lord Price and Lady Laswell were always planning for the clan's future- vying for the throne. They only wanted what was best for John, the glory of the throne, but Ghost knew it would only bring danger. His nightmares of reliving Cailean's ashen face twisted and morphed into seeing John's face looking up at him instead.

John had grown into a fine man. Athletic, handsome, sharp as a nail. He doesn't remember his father as well as Ghost does, but he feels the weight of his need to finish his father's dream- to secure the throne for his clan. Ghost wants to break the vow of silence then and there just to convince him how stupid the idea is, how it could get him killed before he's even turned 25. He doesn't.

Ghost wasn't just taking care of John as a service to Cailean anymore. John talked to Ghost incessantly. While some had taken to mocking Ghost as a means to goad him into speaking, John had grown into speaking to Ghost as an equal. Sharing little jokes, his eyes sparkling as he watched Ghost chuckle dryly. John took care of Ghost, oftentimes feeding him before himself. John's big heart was part of what made Ghost ultimately realize he had fallen for him. Which only made Ghost more concerned about this fight for the throne. He could live with never telling John how he felt, staying by his side as his loyal companion as John would marry a beautiful maiden and have children... but he couldn't live in a world without John in it.

Against all odds, John succeeds.

Ghost lost a lot in his protection of John. His left arm was burned while saving John from a fire, his nerves shot and tendons frayed. He couldn't raise it above his shoulder anymore. Ragged scars ran the other side of his face, fighting off an assassin with a knife. One of his legs was weaker than the other, an arrow wound to the thigh he never properly healed from. Still, he remained the most steadfast and feared soldier.

They were always seen together, John always talking to Ghost. On the day of John's coronation, Ghost breaks his vow- no. His vow is fulfilled. Cailean's dream accomplished, his son seated upon the throne. It was like a knot in Ghost's stomach that had lived there for years finally untwisted, released at the sight of the crown atop John's proud head. Before everyone, Ghost held John's hand in his own. Kneeling before who he believed to be the true and rightful king. The love of his life. Vowing with a voice hoarse from disuse that he would continue to protect and honor King John until his final breath.

[liamsunshine]

maybe the reason y'all didn't like lp1 was because y'all had no social lives and never went to the clubs 

[quisters]

Arthur must constantly be passing out with his frankly atrocious lack of blood at this point

[penguinpartypalooza]

I'm taking my life back. You can't hurt me anymore.

[persistentplums]

Brock being domestic is funny but also it comes from discipline that he obviously has as someone with his job/profession/life that works great. For Doc who definitely doesn’t have that but decided I’m going to have kids and do Christmas cards and all these family stuff makes me think Doc entertains the idea of domestic life while Brock is actually like more than okay to do it under the guise of work but I think out of the two Brock enjoys it (eventually, ik that family photo must’ve been hilariously annoying to get done)

I always think how Brock before leaving them goes “I’m not your family, I’m your body guard” and it’s the one time Rusty and him overlap in a single trait of lying to themselves. For all of good Brock has there’s still a reason though never said why he sticks to Rusty which is boggling to literally everyone and I think that it’s because Rusty is a person who gets the nasty part of everything including who Brock is and in turn the one thing Brock has shame about Rusty could really not care about.

I think Brock and Rusty entire ability to exist together so well is that in actuality they have more things in common, they take turn entertaining the idea of super scientist and hero for each other and it’s not such a wild thing to entertain because it is fundamentally true. Brock does hero agency stuff and Doc does super science it’s true, but they get something about each other that all that time shows itself to: the stuff people tell themselves to get thorough life, prideful traits, insecurities, that deep deep down want of something you’re ashamed of

I just think it’s so silly how these two weirdly are each other exception sorta ride or die bc they get each other and are the same

[yaralulu]

trust and believe that once i finish all my lucienweek fics im gonna write the lucien/jurian fic of my dreams. i already have such a sexy idea for them i just have to finish all my other shit .

[orionsangel86]

Saw Deadpool & Wolverine yesterday. Insane fucking movie. Absolutely bonkers. Plot was ridiculous and nonsensical but Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman clearly had enough chemistry and fun to make it work. No spoilers but a certain trashed Honda Odyssey is about to star in a LOT of explicit AO3 fanfiction. Wow. Just wow.

[valrayne-faeu]

I can’t get the image out of my head of a newly turned MC waking to find their new form and just wailing as everything sets in.

More or less an inverse of the scene in the Angelina Jolie Maleficent where she wakes up without her wings-

And especially to have their skeleton watching not too far away, forcing themselves not to trouble you yet

awwww, that's a tragic image (╥﹏╥) thankfully the fae features don't all happen at once. it's a slow process; it takes a while for your wings (if you have them) to grow in, and the first things you start to notice are the smaller changes. your ears getting longer and pointier, maybe your eyes start shifting in colour, your teeth getting longer and sharper. every fae is different, but in general it can take up to a year after being officially trapped in the realm for things like your wings to be fully grown.

now, there are ways to speed up the process... but that has some associated pain. your body isn't meant to have drastic changes so quickly. if you try to leave the fae realms before you're fully fae, the border will reject you-- and the potent magic will attempt to remedy that by changing you. the longer you're in contact with the barrier, the more changes that happen in quick succession, but also the more it hurts. a quick shock will result in something like your ears having changed.

if the changes bother you as they happen you can try trading them away or learning to use glamours to hide them!

[nattikay]

@ avatar fandom:

it is perfectly ok to find a fictional character attractive, but constantly explicitly obsessing over your own lust for them is creepy and unhealthy

[edwardsissyhandsthtdanceslikeabb]

Blink Twice is an encapsulation of dubiousness to me, not only in the thinking it inspires, but in the layers you’re left grappling with, and then the inferences one has to resonate with after that.

and nothing evidences that more than the intangible nature of the disturbing angle to me, as its muddied in the layers of complication and nuance that lurk beneath. i mean the movie itself paints over the tragedies with cynicism, is entirely dedicated to weaponizing intuition and comfort against you.

i’d never read it as disturbed, and it too, never lets you mourn in turn. bc its insane at its inception, warped by frida’s fanatical infatuation with slater, bordering preying, a reverence for one's kill. and lures us with psychedelic, sugary visuals, with the indulgence – on food, luxury, substances. on billionaire brainrot fodder, perpetuating their power, craving proximity. inviting it into our homes, our heads. the movie *wants* you, most of all, to understand frida’s hunger. and its that thirst i most resonate with, not for a lack of empathy, or even technical prowess, but the basal intrigue it cemented in me instead.

bc it’s a movie that’s nearly primal for me. it scents cycles and desensitization, roles and autonomy, a self-infliction of decay, and disorients you before you’re allowed a proper lungful. there are only questions. shifts. a russian doll of detail and poison, and the inviolability that invoked, ironically only ever paralyzed my thinking, serving creative rot, over any epiphanies or nuance i could hope to be enlightened to.

the animalistic cruelty of desire is not there to be contextualized, but understood. felt. a relationship as inextricable as frida and slater’s. with slater likely parasitizing her algorithm, wielding his techbro power to further entrap her. like how we routinely indulge in the same. you rewind the movie, and pick out signs of danger, slater snickering at frida praising her memory, the supposed water he drinks and its snake-venom hue, the recurring jingling of a necklace, and like frida, have the fantasy demystified, wonder how there was *ever* an illusion of safety.

so watching an analysis video which posits that slater smokes the venom, that he indulges all suffering except his own, just as frida remembers the doctor’s blinks of warning, while burying the suffering they foresee, that they have seen, is watching frida emulate slater, and slater her.

it’s the movie’s thesis statement: there is no healing, there is no forgiveness, only embrace, only numbness, apathy. and when a stray tear glistens on slater’s face, he mourns not for the men, for paternalistic, patriarchal dominance, but for his friend. the only one he claims. he mourns their intimacy, their unity — grieves the good time™. a good time unattainable within trauma, within memory.

yet this pleasure, love, are perverted into captivity, and all i ended up thinking of was: “i love you means you’re never ever, ever getting rid of me.” that slater thinks he knows best, thinks he’s doing good by unburdening her, yet scars her all the same.

as bodies are made immaterial to him, dispossessed of sanctity or autonomy and so their desecration harmless. as slater makes frida a conduit for physical harm while lavishing her emotionally, and yet also exploiting their bond, feeding on their closeness for the labor of love and pain it provides. bc the one thing he needs, the one thing he cannot sacrifice, is her closeness, her intimacy, as it validates his ethos of forgetfulness, reflects it back at him. thusly, frida is reduced to a vessel of experience just as he was, just as he reduces himself to, oversaturated in good times™.

good times masquerading as truth, which slater exposes a latent contempt for, as he emasculates the remaining boy for his cowardice, his complacency, despite his glaringly disoriented, unaware state. regardless of any violation he too may have suffered, when we’d seen him scooting away from another man on the ground, enfeebled and vulnerated. in spite of slater’s aggrievement by his own lapses in memory, his own embracing of that which violated him, and violated also, those he cares abt. but slater is relieved of any loneliness by this flagelattory camaraderie, of the perpetual loss of significance, when frida remains a fixture in his suffering, when she constantly violates her boundaries too.

and we too strain our boundaries, test our empathy with the narratives we are inclined to accept. frida the girlboss or frida the fallen angel? akin to the tests slater sets for her, handing her clarity just to see what she dares remember. the good time™, the willing participant, the indulged, or the languished? seeing if she’s really forgiven, or rather, forgotten instead, drawn to indulgence despite how its hurt her. when she endangers jess in turn, desperate to feel valued, to *feel* power — in it all, is the powerstruggle.

and yet, also a relationship, as jess protects frida despite it all, and frida wakes up to the deception bc of her love for jess. while the island, the staff, embrace frida as if she has always been, will find her way around just as she will find a way to enlightenment, handed venom as if it were benign, as if the island itself wanted her freed. pests, predators, turned to salvation, just as poison becomes a cure. the cure. and when the island has been said to be the garden of eden, enlightenment is truly then, the original sin. the genesis of awareness.

and thusly, frida reclaims power by hurting him, fed his own poison. frida now the snake, frida refusing to leave the island still. denied healing, alienated from it, and so stuck still. bound. bound too, as we watched them enjoy every intimacy except the physical, sharing the pain and trauma they’d been subjected to with a nearly ironic a-sexuality, transcendent of it. with slater seeing her as his best friend. exempt from death and equally so from release.

and that twisted, appropriative bond, the repurposing of trauma, and so feeling a sick sense of ownership over it, love for it, are equally present in frida keeping him from death.

her newfound, bleach white luxury, the disappearing stains and panopticon of elitism, are not horrific until they are, and you either embrace it, or you let it hurt. and frida, red rabbit running, red rabbit caught in slater’s sick, trivializing game, already likened to livestock by her name, decided to become the hunter instead. made high on the chase.

unlike slater who provides and subjects experiences onto others, now there is frida who takes and caters experiences for herself. all congratulatory. all good.

thusly, the movie is the trip, it’s delusion and entanglement and the self-eating snake, and trying to sterilize that is as futile as it is sacrilegious.

[faunandfloraas]

well the day started pretty fun, like sure the outfits were boring and the styling was lackluster but it was fun- i was excited for them. Now however hearing how the press was speaking to them I'm officially just pissed and disappointed.

[1phakephan]

🗣️🗣️ pov dan and phil base their pizza selection in part 2 of their iconic mukbang video on their hatred for the detroit pizza company that almost ruined your life

[nerime]

my coworkers are being turbo transphobic and literally refuse to listen to answers to questions they fucking ask argh!!! I can just tell you!!! I can just answer you!!!!! I have answers!!! to the ridiculous questions you ask in a mocking way!!!! if you listen for one second I can just fucking explain!!!! 😡😭😡😭

[mayasdeluca]

[schrodingers-romy]

On one hand, popularity polls mean nothing and idrc. On the other hand, how in the FRESH HELL is naoya in 5th while choso, yuuta, and nanami are all below him? /gen

[bi-writes]

I generally don’t leave asks because I don’t know what to say 🧍 but always so much on the mind . Been trying to compliment/ let the authors I read know I love their work so much more often.

I’ve seen recently in my feed that you don’t know what people liked/enjoyed about the MOB series and you’ve been getting asked more about what the next chapter is going to be. I for one love you writing in general . My first fic I read of yours was the MOB fics but it made me read the rest of your content - it’s the one thing I enjoy about tumbler for fics and as well it made me follow you for you yourself !

I constantly see you on my feed and I enjoy every single thing I see ! Your personality shines through and always gets a smile or giggle out of me :> It sucks that people have been rude to you, and I hope you realize you aren’t those things they say to you or whatever else they mention :/ . I’m just glad you posted your works to tumbler for others to read and enjoy . I hope you get the same enjoyment from hearing all of the praise I know people have for you as they do from your writings.

Much love from an avid follower/ lurker that enjoys you for you 🫶

hi. i'm so happy you're here and enjoying my stuff. i love getting messages like this, it's like immediate validation, i love it so much.

i'm gonna try and be better about keeping negative things off my blog. it's a very innate reaction i have i think to defend myself, mostly because i believe i'm a good, open-minded, and (unless provoked) kind person, and i don't think i'm someone who deserves to be told what to do or how to behave or to just allow people to say nasty things to me or call me honestly horrible things.

but i really like how this blog feels like a little community, and i'm so glad that i could make you laugh outside of what i write. i hope you stick around, and i'm glad i can be some sense of entertainment for you.